


Slander

by navaan



Category: Versailles no Bara | Rose of Versailles
Genre: Gen, Other, Suicidal Thoughts, Suicide Attempt, Yuletide 2011, hinted romance - Freeform
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2011-12-20
Updated: 2011-12-20
Packaged: 2017-10-27 15:23:29
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,114
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/297287
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/navaan/pseuds/navaan
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Oscar saves a young woman from drowning herself while on patrol in Paris. How to help a damsel in distress?</p>
            </blockquote>





	Slander

**Author's Note:**

  * For [mellish](https://archiveofourown.org/users/mellish/gifts).



She could hear her men mumbling behind her. She wasn’t even surprised. Since she had made the decision to leave the Royal Guard and become the commander of this lot, she’d had to learn the hard way that things were different for some people. Of course, she had always known that. But whatever she had thought she knew, the live of the men she was leading was so different, that aristocrats could never imagine what it was like.

André was already standing at her side, helping her to get out of the stinking water of the river. Alain was looking at her with an amused glint in his eyes that she probably would have found infectious or funny - if it hadn’t been so obviously directed at her. She could only imagine what she looked like: long hair and uniform drenched with the unsightly water of the Seine. At least he had the decency to step up and extend a hand to help them to get the barely conscious girl out of the water.

“Are you all right?” André asked in level tone.

“That was quite the rescue, _Commander_.” Alain quipped at her. “This young lady can be glad, you were so willing to throw yourself into the water when she fell...”

“She’ll not thank me for it,” Oscar interjected. André, who had put his jacket around the girls shoulders before carefully lying her down, looked up at her darkly. She knew he had seen what had happened. And, of course, he had an idea what it meant. Both of them had seen girls despair at court before. “She jumped off a bridge. You don’t do that if your not desperate.”

“Hn...” Alain was looking away and Oscar exchanged a quick glance with André. There was no way to tell what was on Alain’s mind, but there were more pressing matters at hand. Namely getting the girl somewhere warm and dry.

“You should probably get...”

“I should probably get her somewhere safe. Yes.” It wasn’t what André had been about to say and they both knew it. But Oscar couldn’t help feeling annoyed at his constant worry about _her_. This was why she had wanted to get away from him. It would have been better for him to forget about his feelings for her. There had been a time when all their interactions had been so easy and now everything was complicated.

André was giving her another long look before saying: “I’m sorry, commander. But I _wanted to_ suggest that both of you get out of the cold.”

“And maybe get yourself cleaned up. You stink,” Alain who had stood back, probably to let André have a quiet moment with her, said pointedly. There was no point in disagreeing.

***

“What’s with that girl then?”

The men were sitting in the barracks playing cards and Alain _knew_ he was winning.

“Nobles! Hard lives they must lead if their daughters have to throw themselves into the river.”

“Yeah. I don’t envy them their _hardship!_ ”

The room erupted in malicious laughter. Alain was watching André from the corner of his eyes. His silent friend was starring at the ceiling and had been doing so for a while. Something was up.

“The commander hasn’t come back yet, has she?”

“No, Jean, she hasn’t. Quite as well of you ask me.”

Another round of laughter filled the room and Alain finally winning this round of cards had no reason not to join in.

***

“I’m sorry, you had to go through all this trouble.” It was the first thing the young woman had said since arriving at the chateau of the Jarjayes family and Oscar had a feeling that she would not go on speaking without prompting.

“You shouldn’t worry, Mademoiselle.”

“Don’t... Don’t call me that. I have no... I’m not... I’m ruined.” The desperation in her voice made Oscar pause. She had seen desperation before, and more than once. Rosalie, who’d come to kill her mother’s murderer; Charlotte, who had chosen death above an unwanted marriage; a mistress leaving Versailles forever; a Queen sitting at the bed of her dying baby daughter and watching over her frail son with a sadness, she wasn’t allowed to show. Desperation could make people do unspeakable things, too. Oscar had seen _that_ happen more than once at court, too.

“Will you tell me what happened?”

The woman shook her head.

“Will you tell me your name then?”

Another shake of the head, and Oscar had a feeling that she wouldn’t get the name today. But then the woman stared at her hands and said. “He’ll not marry me now. And my aunt... If she hears... She’ll never take me back in now. How could she?” She spoke haltingly, like in a fever, and Oscar wasn’t sure if it wouldn’t be better to call back the doctor.

“Why would she not take you back?”

“Because I’m ruined. That wretched man has told all of them that... that I’m ruined. “ She buried her face in her hands and began to sob. It was a heartbreaking sight, and Oscar got up to sit down beside her on the bed, but didn't want to touch her. “Don’t cry. I can’t help you if you cry...”

“You shouldn’t have helped me, sir. I wanted to... It would have been easier for everyone involved. I would be better of dead.”

For a moment she saw Rosalie's little sister, Mademoiselle Charlotte, fall to her death. She had asked for help in her own silent way, before she hadn't seen any other way out. _She_ had been convinced that death was the only way. Nobody should think that death was their only choice. “Hush now.” She reached for the woman, who really wasn’t much more than a girl, and gathered her in her arms. This reminded her so much of Rosalie; little, sweet Rosalie who had learned to help herself in the end. “You should really tell me you’re name, child.”

She shook her head again and cried. Then suddenly she paused and looked up with tear stained cheeks as if something had occurred to her. “You are not a man, are you?”

That was what it came down to time and time again: that’s what André had wanted to make her see, that’s why her men didn’t like following her, and why her father had recently started to worry about her. “No, I’m not a man. But I’ll help you. If you tell me what is wrong.”

“My name is Marie Aimée de Beaunier. But that doesn’t matter any more... Phillipe won’t have me now. He called me an unfaithful... whore...”

***

“I need your help.”

Oscar hadn’t directly sought him out even once since he had joined the Royal Guards, and now she was standing before him as if nothing had ever happened between them. “You know you have it.”

Oscar gave a short nod and turned to walk away. André was about to follow, when a strong hand fell onto his shoulder and held him back. In a moment of panic he realised that the man holding him was standing on his blind side. Even after quickly turning his head around, he needed a moment to focus on Alain’s grave face. “You really should learn to not sell yourself short. _You know you have it,_ ” he mocked. “You should at least ask what she wants before you...”

“André, knows me well enough by now.” Oscar had returned and stared at both of them coldly. André felt his heart freeze all over again, but this time with a different kind of panic. Even if she hadn’t noticed it herself, she’d reached out to him today. “Is something wrong, Alain? Or is there a different purpose for you to sneak along the hallways? I’m sure, I can find something for you to do if you’re bored.”

“Actually I was thinking about the girl we fished out of the Seine the other day...”

Her laughter was beautiful, clear and amused – and a little dangerous. He’d so often heard it over the years that he only realized now, how long it had been since he’d heard that particular laugh last. “As far as I can remember, _I_ did the fishing, Alain, thank you,” she said.

Alain gave André a sideways look, and André hoped he wasn’t planning on starting another fight now of all times.

“Maybe both of you should come along then,” Oscar said, and her stance told him that she’d made the decision on the spot, but was now in a hurry.

“What’s wrong?” he asked, a little anxious that she was in trouble again, after throwing herself into harms way just yesterday.

“The young lady that was rescued yesterday, seems to be the talk of half of Paris today. But - as she has been assuring me - through no fault of her own. It seems like a duke has decided that his daughter is the right bride for the young lady's noble fiancé, and has accordingly intervened to see the couple split up. The young man has quite a bit of wealth to spare, you see. And now young Marie has lost her reputation, and the man she loves has repeated every word of slander right to her face, before calling off the wedding.”

“What are you saying?” Alain had gone a little white in the face and André suddenly feared it had been a miscalculation on Oscar’s part to bring him along at all. “Little lady is all right, is she?”

“Yes. And no. She’s alive, but not really all right. She threw herself into the river, because she didn’t see any other way. And circumstances haven’t changed, just because I kept her from drowning. I’ve made some inquiries...”

“You mean, you asked your mother for court gossip,” André said with an raised eyebrow.

“Yes.” Oscar shrugged dismissively. “It was very informative to say the least.”

Alain had no patience for court gossip, though. “So what happened?”

“The young woman was slandered and her fiancé cut all ties. She’s afraid to return to her aunt’s house and bring the woman more grief and shame. So I thought maybe we should do something about it...”

André examined her face closely and furrowed his brow. “You’re not going to duel someone.”

“Too late actually. The person who was paid to spread the lies, a man by the name of Couzières, will meet me outside the city in an hour.”

André pressed a hand over his good eye for a moment. He didn’t even know why he was surprised, after all he’d know the woman for quite some time, and this was exactly what he would have expected of her.

***

“Does she do things like that often?” Alain whispered to André while they watched the duel proceed. Couzières had turned out to be a big man, bigger than Alain even, with broad shoulders and probably a good deal of strength. But it turned out rather quickly that he wasn’t all that good with a sword. Their commander was playing with him like a cat would play with a mouse before the kill. His second was beginning to look rather pale and agitated.

“She’ll draw first blood,” André was telling him quietly, “and he’ll be laughing stock if everyone hears he’s been beaten by a lady.” Alain gave him a sour look, and André was sure he was thinking of the the duel he’d fought against Oscar weeks ago. “Well, that is if he lives, of course.”

Oscar, André knew, had no intention whatsoever to kill this man. Oscar was here to scare the hell out of him and that was it. And she was winning. Swords were clashing, filling the clearance with sound. It was as if he was seeing her fight for the first time, although he had seen her do it so often he’d lost count. Her hair was gleaming in the sunlight and he stared transfixed. In combat she was even more breathtaking. Alive and fierce. He could see her for what she really was. All of her.

She was carefully choosing her steps as she was dancing out of the way of the blade again and again just to aggressively strike the next moment. It looked effortless, but André knew that she’d trained this to perfection. He knew the tactic, because she’d used it on him more than once.

A surprised scream, a rapier flying through the air, blood on green grass and the duel was over. Alain looked merely amused. “I’m glad, she doesn’t only beat up poor soldiers.”

“You have no idea,” André told him.

***

Silence filled the carriage. Marie hadn’t said a word since they had left the house, but she was still clutching the paper to her chest as if her life depended on holding on to it. And maybe it did, Oscar thought, because it was a letter from her aunt.

She’d managed to get a written confession after the duel. He had written down an account of his own involvement in what had been done to slander the young woman. Oscar had secretly worked to have it copied and passed on. The fall of Couzières was the newest court talk, although Oscar had sought to have her own name kept quiet. To protect Marie she’d also thought it wise to have no one blamed but Couzières himself. He was one of these people who’d just get up and swindle his way into a new life anyway. There was no use fighting this out with a duke, who could just go and turn the tables on Marie again if he felt threatened.

“What about Philippe? Does he know?” Marie asked and Oscar was startled out of her thoughts.

“I don’t know. But he’ll have heard of it by now, I’m sure.” She didn’t want to get Marie’s hopes up. After all Oscar didn’t know the man in question, but had a feeling that it was better that way. After all he had believed the lies without ever talking to his fiancée again. It wasn’t her place to voice these thoughts, though.

“Will he believe this? Will he take me back?”

“I don’t know. If he does, do you want him to?”

Marie looked startled for a moment and furrowed her brow. There was life again in her eyes, in her rosy cheeks. She was no longer the defeated girl, weary of life, Oscar had pulled from the water. Life had returned her natural beauty, and Oscar couldn't help but think that anyone rejecting her was a fool. “I’ll be glad if my aunt will take me back in. I have to apologize. I’ve caused her nothing but trouble. When these accusations were voiced I just ran away. I should have gone to her first...”

“You’ll explain it to her. She seemed happy enough to receive your note,” Oscar reminded her. Glad that “Philippe” had been forgotten for the moment.

“Yes.” She stared before her, deep in thought once more.

Oscar looked out of the window, to where Alain and André were trailing alongside the carriage, talking and occasionally laughing together. She had asked them to come along to see this through to its conclusion, although she didn’t really think there would be any more trouble. Not today. André was dutifully leading her white at the reins beside him. It was so strange to see André riding with someone else. Back in the day it had always been the two of them; riding, fencing, fighting and laughing. She missed it, although it was best to keep a save distance between them now.

“He loves me,” Marie said suddenly and Oscar wassn’t entirely sure she was talking to her at all. “I know he does. And I love him... It’s just strange to think... You didn’t know me and you fought for me. You believed me.” She looked away, out of the window and into the distance. “This doesn’t mean he doesn’t love me, right?”

Was Marie trying to convince herself? “I can’t tell you the answer to that, Marie. I’ve never met your Philippe.” _But I’d probably want to tear him apart if I were in your place._ Thankfully that’s not something she’d ever have to worry about.

Marie was still looking out of the window. “That’s right. I’ll have to find the answer to that myself, I think. It’s just that I thought that Philippe knew me better than anyone, truly _knew_ me.” Oscar’s eyes drifted back to André. He caught her eyes and held them for a moment. Then he nodded and pointed ahead, which she took as a sign that they were arriving any moment now.

The carriage stopped only minutes later, and Oscar helped Marie get out. Her aunt and some members of their household had gathered in the court, which was rather unusual on a normal day, but probably not when the lost daughter returned home, her name cleared. Oscar said her good-byes to Marie at the carriage, because she had no intention to be dragged even more into this family business. Marie just nodded at her. “If anything happens...”

“I’ll leave the carriage with you. Send it back when you have no more need of it.” Marie nodded again and made a step towards her home. Her aunt was already coming towards her. André had come to a stop beside Oscar and held out the reigns for her. It was time to leave this little tragedy behind. Back in the saddle she noticed the young man stepping towards Marie, holding out his hand, smiling.

“If she has any sense, she’ll not take him back,” Alain remarked beside her. She could imagine what was going through his mind. A quick look back at Marie confirmed some of her own thoughts: Marie’s face was neutral and free of tears when she looked at him. She turned to her aunt first to embrace her.

“She has some sense,” she replied. Marie would make her own decision. What did the three of them know about this family to judge? Maybe marrying a rich man was also a way to keep this estate or status? Aristocracy was often poorer than it looked to the common people. Especially when they had ties to the court, money was a liability. But maybe Marie would be lucky and would know now if Philippe loved her for who she was and be able to make a choice.

They left the courtyard in a hurry, André and Alain following silently in her wake.

She pretended not hear when Alain whispered to his friend: “I think I know now what you see in her.”

“I just see _her_ ,” André answered seriously.


End file.
